Going to Malibu feels good all of the time. I have a beach that I like to sit at where I ponder the engineering allowing the homes to anchor. Get fucking thrashed by the waves. Eat oranges.

There's this song by Say Anything about a holocaust love affair that always ends up finding me on this beach. The idea that someone sat down to write a hypothetical about screwing the day away in hiding from nazis is crazy work. I wonder if the artist is Jewish, or horny for hiding, or maybe this came from a creative block where they forced themselves to just make something, and being so down, they sexualized Anne Frank's diary. Some things are best left a mystery.

I have the best time going to and from this beach. I feel like I don't listen to music as much as I used to. I aggressively listen to my playlist "idiot favorite" both directions and feel as if I'm hearing a radio station with all of my favorite songs, knowing full well that I very literally crafted this bitch by my own hand. Like, wow! I love this song! Another banger. Can't believe this, type shit.

Hadn't been in a while. Keeping distance after the fires turned into too long gone. Anyway, I took my dog. Our birthdays are a week apart so we celebrated our last days at 36 and 4. He turned into a psycho, he almost fucking drowned. I had to chase him into the ocean. We got back safe and he started digging holes. I've never seen him do shit like this before. He was possessed by a sea siren. He just kept digging, I was getting pelted in the face with sand and despite my cries for annulment he was being controlled by a higher power.

I put the leash on him because in-between digs he started running really far away and I became 5 alarm concerned he was working for someone else.